Page 84 of Let's Talk About Love
Dr. Burris chuckled behind his hand. The corners of his smile were too wide to be hidden. “Thank you. I’m honored that you think of me in that way. But, again, I’m still not sure what happened between you and Takumi beyond your confession.”
“I said I told him because I thought there was a vibe,” she began ata measured pace. “And then he seemed really playful, but then I told him I was ace and he got all serious. I thought maybe he was going to say he liked me, too. No dice. He just said nothing changed between us,whichis the entire problem and why I’m in this mess. I don’t know how he feels!”
“Breathe, Alice.” He set his notepad down on the table. “Why don’t we try a few breathing exercises to help you get centered before we continue.”
“No. It’s fine. I’m calm.” She breathed in and out. “See? Breathing.”
He sat back in his seat, crossing his legs at the knee, and linking his hands together.
“So what should I do? What does itseemlike he meant? I mean, you know everything. Do you need to check your notes about me?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Alice thought counselors and therapists were required to have professional poker faces, and if they did, Dr. Burris didn’t care. He had the greatest smile when he tried not to laugh at her. The thing she loved most? It was never mean laughter—never made her feel small or ashamed. He wasn’t her friend—no, there was certainly a professional line between them—but they were friendly. It was almost as if he enjoyed their sessions together almost as much as she did. “The simplest answer is usually the best one. In this case, the best course of action seems to be asking him directly.”
Alice stared at him with a blank face. “That is theworstadvice I have ever heard. This ismewe’re talking about here. Anytime I’m direct, everything falls apart, goes wrong, blows itself to smithereens. I need a backup plan to the backup plan at this point.”
“Things don’t seem to work when you’re indirect either.”
“Did you just sass me?” She leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “I knew I liked you. You’re like a wizened Feenie.”
“May I speak freely?”
“Have at it, Dr. B.”
“You are a dynamic and delightful young lady.” He removed his glasses. “Any partner you choose would be lucky to have you. You’ve come a long way in a short amount of time, and quite frankly, I’m impressed.”
She grinned at him. He always managed to give her the warm and fuzzies without it being weird and sappy. “Where were you when I was in high school? Do you have any idea how much angst and anguish I had to sort through on my own? I would have started therapyyearsago.”
“I have an idea.” He chuckled under his breath, eyes crinkling. “And how are things with Feenie?”
“Seems like we’re going to hell in two separate handbaskets, which, honestly? Just sucks all the fun out of living. Thank God I met Takumi when I did becauseman, would this summer have sucked.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“Not really.” She toed the carpet.
“All right,” he said. “And your family?”
“Parental convo is a go. T-minus three days and counting. Takumi’s been coaching me.”
“I see.” Dr. Burris sighed. Again. What was with the sighing today? “I’d like to give you some exercises to complete. I would like it if you spent some time alone. Nothing too extreme—maybe a few hours at a time for three days a week without communicating with anyone else if you can manage that. I’d like you to write down your thoughts, how you felt, what you did during that time, and bring them with you to our next session.”
“Okay. Sounds easy enough.”
“One other thing: I’d like you to think about how you would potentially approach your family to tell them about your orientation. Now, I am not suggesting you carry out the conversation—that is not something I can recommend you go through with unless you feelready. Mainly, I want you to think about the language and steps you would take as if you were.”
“Mmmm.” Alice puffed up her cheeks. “Yeah. No. I’m going to respectfully decline that one.”
“All right.”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s because I don’t need to,” she said. “I’m not telling my momanythingright now. But my brother knows I like girls, too, and I’m pretty sure my sister knows. She always said ‘that Margot girl,’ which could have meant she didn’t like Margot in general or she didn’t like that I was dating her. I think it was in general, though, because if she had a problem with me dating a girl, she would have said something. Silence is not Aisha’s style. Huh”—Alice paused—“I should send her a nice present or something.”
“A present?”
“Yeah. Just because. She can be cool when she wants to be.”
“Would you be willing to talk about why you don’t want to tell your mom?”
“My parents are older. Like close-to-their-seventies older. I don’t think she’d be mad or anything, but I don’t know if she’d understand immediately, and my dad is the best person to help her get there. It’s pretty funny—during sociology last semester, we were discussing the steadily increasing rates of divorce in America and why we thought it was happening. Everyone was referencing their parents’ reasons for splitting up and there I was in the corner like, ‘My parents love and respect each other. Everything’s great in my house.’
